Date: Sun, 20 Feb 2005 13:46:17 -0500
From: Jaylovenj@comcast.net
Subject: Four Becomes Two Chapter 24
Dear Readers:
I want to thank all of you who have encouraged me thus far, and I hope that
you continue to find some enjoyment in the story. There are many issues in
the male psyche that a work of prose touches upon. Each issue is only used
as a tool to further the progression of the story, and is only for
entertainment purposes.
Some readers, who have written, have commented that they felt put off by
some of the descriptive narrative. Believe me, most authors write from
their fantasy, and nothing is meant to be a used as a substitute to serious
medical attention that should be sought.
My only answer to those of you who have questioned the narrative is to love
yourself. God made each of us, and we all are perfect in His sight. Rejoice
in that! It is hard enough being "gay", whatever that means, in a world
that is resistant to how we are. Don't add stress to your life by being
self-conscious about trivial things. The one thing that we all need to
strive for is acceptance: acceptance of each other, acceptance of our
differences, and most importantly, acceptance of ourselves. Love yourself!
If you don't, no one will. Besides, who deserves love more?
Many of you have requested a "bio" from me, and that will be posted with
the last chapter. So keep reading. LOL
As always, I want to remind you that even though Dave and Greg are not
practicing safety in their sexual escapades, remember you must. We're
dealing with some serious stuff out there, and if, God forbid, the world
will lose some of its brightness and glitter without you.
This part is for all you guys and gals who are too young to be reading this
material. LEAVE NOW! (Yeah, like what am I going to do if you don't)? If
you find this subject objectionable, LEAVE NOW! And remember, this story is
a creation of my overworked imagination and belongs to me. If you'd like to
reproduce this in any form, please contact the author (me) for permission.
Also, any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is a compliment and
should be taken as such.
Thank you,
Jay
As always, this author craves feedback. Criticism only makes me a better
writer. Please respond to Jaylovenj@comcast.net. I look forward to hearing
from you.
Four Become Two: Chapter 24
>From Chapter 23:
"Who is Bryan Lane?" All of us turn as Rich and Betsy come into the
room. "Well?"
"Bryan was one of the detectives that assisted us with Shelia and Annette,"
Greg answers Rich.
"Hi Rich. Hi Betsy."
"Hi everyone," they say simultaneously. "Who are you?" Rich continues.
"This is Bruce Whitaker. A friend of Greg's." We were surprised that the
introduction came from Jeff.
"Oh, nice to meet you, Bruce. My wife, Betsy," he says indicating Betsy.
"Nice to meet both of you, but I wish the circumstances were different," he
answers.
"So, what do you know?"
Once again, Jeff recounts the events as best he knew, filling in Rich and
Betsy. "You two look like shit," Rich comments, when Jeff finishes. "And is
the honey.is there honey in the kitchen?" he continues, obviously changing
his train of thought in the process.
I glare at him rather openly. "I'm tried. I'm going to bed. Bruce, make
yourself at home. I'm sure everyone here will make you comfortable." I head
off towards my room. I soon hear footsteps behind me. I know it's Greg.
Chapter 24:
I really didn't feel like getting into this right now. All I really wanted
to do was to go to bed. "Greg."
"Dave," he interrupts. We really have to talk. We can't go on this way
baby.and I'm scared.
"You selfish son-of-a-bitch!" I scream, catching him totally off
guard. "You're scared? What do you think about me?"
"Dave.I,,," he stumbles.
"Don't Greg. Don't." Tears are now flowing freely down my face. I had
promised myself that I wasn't going to cry. "Greg? Don't you understand?
This would have been easier if you would have dumped me. This would have
been easier if you would have cut my heart out with a steak knife, and fed
it to me." I walk to the window, looking out at the light being reflected
off the water of Lake Michigan.
"Do you want Bruce?" I ask.
"No." His answer was quick and decisive, taking me aback. "I can honestly
say that I don't want him. My life is with you. You, and the children, are
the ones that I want to share my life with. I want to awaken each and every
morning in your arms. I want to raise the children with you. I want to sit
on that porch in that rocker with you, and watch our grandchildren at
play."
"Then make me understand, Greg. Make me understand, please," I beg, turning
to face him.
I see his face. It looks worn, like he's aged in the last few hours. He
takes me by the hand, pulling me to the divan in the room. Once seated, he
takes my hand. I let him. His touch still excites me.
"I wish I understood myself. Bruce was the most popular guy in my class, as
I told you. He could have anything, and anyone that he wanted. People
begged to be his friend, or just to be recognized by him. Our class voted
him the most likely. to do anything. Anything! It was guaranteed that he
would be a success. He had the proverbial silver spoon.
I was his friend only because of our parent's friendship. For everything
that Bruce was, I felt I was not. I was not popular. I was the geek. I
wasn't voted the most likely to do anything. Oh, the kids knew me, but it
was because of my friendship with Bruce.
Whereas Bruce dated any girl he wished, I couldn't buy a date.
So, that night, that miserable night, that night I betrayed you, that night
I will never be able to forgive myself for, that night, I experienced a
power rush. I was seduced by power, not by Bruce.
He begged me. Me! He wanted me. He wanted to do things for my pleasure. And
that power was intoxicating. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I
seemed powerless."
"But you made love to him," I interject, not bothering to hide the flow of
my tears.
"No! I did not, I repeat, did not make love to him. I fucked him! There was
no love there. I didn't recognize myself. I was brutal. I fucked him like
the slut that I wanted him to be. I'm ashamed. I'm ashamed because I didn't
know that I used him, but he doesn't. He just knows that I regret every
minute that I hurt you."
I couldn't speak. On some level, I didn't know Greg. And then again, I
could feel the emotions he described as I watch his body wrack from the
guilt.
Tentatively, I pulled him into my arms. My resolve was melting as I watched
the man I love in such pain. As he laid his head upon my shoulder, I
realized that forgiveness had found its way into my heart. It was a
glimmer, but I knew that I was on the way back to forgiving Greg for all of
this mess.
Maybe I am like those people caught up in an abusive relationship, those
people who can't see the abuse because of the love. All I knew at that
moment was that Greg was my world, and I couldn't force myself to separate
from that world. Wives, husbands, and lovers forgive their mates everyday
for relationship indiscretions; I knew I would forgive Greg.
"So, where do we go from here?" Greg asks, drying his eyes. "Do you ever
think that you can forgive me? Do you even want to forgive me?"
"Yes, Greg. I can forgive you. And yes, I want to forgive you. As for where
do we go? We take it slow. I've lost trust, Greg. I need to know that I can
depend on you."
"You can-you can depend on me," he rushes, "and I'll do whatever it takes
to get us back on track. Just tell me what I have to do."
"I can't tell you Greg. You have to know what to do. Hurt me as it did, I'm
glad that you were honest enough to come to me about this.
But, know one thing-and I mean this, Greg-I will not put up with
affairs. If you feel the need to sleep around, let's end this now. And if
you feel the need to do this again, and act upon it, don't come home. Do I
make myself perfectly clear?"
"You don't have to worry. Never again."
"Never say never. It's a long time." I kiss him on the lips, a quick peck,
although I could tell he wanted more. "I'm going to take a shower, and
climb into bed. I need some sleep" I head to the bathroom, dropping my
clothes along the way.
I had started to soap up my chest when I felt the shower door open. There
stood Greg, in all his magnificent glory. I had to remember to breathe. The
site of him still took my breath away, and yes, there was a familiar twitch
in my crotch.
"I'll.I'll wait if you want me too," he said. I held out my hand to him,
and he folded into my arms.
Despite my misgivings, my dick began to get hard, and I could feel the heat
from Greg as well. Pulling away from me, he took the soap, and began to rub
my body. His hands felt great, and soon my dick was arching, kissing the
sky.
"You have such strong muscles here," Greg says. "To get something this big
and heavy pointing upward amazes me. He has been cleansing my legs and
toes, all the while his hot breath is dancing on my heated phallus.
I let out a sigh of excitement. "You like that, don't you?" he says to
me. "If you like that, you're going to love this." He grabs me, and begins
to stroke me, running his hand up and down the length of me His soapy
fingers begin to manipulate my balls, rolling them gently in his palm,
sliding them through his fingers, all the while stroking me.
I could feel the tension mounting. My legs began to shake as orgasm was
definitely approaching. I warn Greg that I'm there, oxymoronic since he
knew my body as well as I.
My thrashing had turned me until I was now facing the spray.
"Oh fuck!" I moan, as my seed begins to travel up the tube. "OH FUCK!" I
shout as Greg plunges his lips down the length of me, embedding me in his
throat. I cum. I cum as I haven't in so long. Gallons and gallons had to be
pouring out of me. My very existence was pouring out of me..
Greg pulls back until only the sensitive head is still on his tongue,
tasting my offering. His own moans of pleasure sending tingling sensations
coursing along my spurting rod.
He sucks, and sucks, getting every drop that I had to offer, sucking me
until, in my horny condition, I am on my way again to hardness. No
tenderness. No soreness. Only a re-igniting of my passion.
Once I'm well on my way, I feel Greg rise, his own hardness leaving a slick
trail along my thigh.
"Looks like someone isn't finished," Greg says, planting kisses on my
heaving chest. "Well, I have an idea about how to take care of this little
problem." We finish rinsing off, and then Greg dries me, being very gentle
around my cock and balls. After he is dry, he leads me, by the crotch, to
the bed.
He takes me in his arms. I get weak feeling his powerful body, naked,
against my own. "Dave? I want to make love to you. You noticed, I said make
love, not have sex. Is that something that you'd like to do?"
My mind tells me to say 'no'. We had gone to far already. I could feel the
tears in my eyes as I looked into his pools of blue. There was such desire,
such wanting. I found myself shaking my head 'yes'.
A smile graces his face. The first one I'd seen in hours. I realized I
needed that smile. I needed Greg to smile. His smile made my heart
flutter-sing.
He laid me back on the bed, straddling my hips as he brought his lips to
mine. We kiss, the kiss passionate, the desire evident. I can feel his hot
hole grab the head of my dick, and he sucks me inside.
"Hey, man," Jeff says, tapping Bruce on the knee. "Why don't you go on up
to bed? This chair is comfortable, but not that comfortable."
"I'm alright. Didn't plan on dozing off."
"Where is everybody?"
"I think they went up to sleep."
Jeff looks at Bruce warily before he asks, "did anyone show you to a room?"
"I was just going to call a hotel. You guys have enough people staying
here, and you need to concentrate on whatever you hear about your parents."
"Those bastards! I'm sorry. Let me take you to your room. Come on!"
"That's alright, Jeff. I'll be okay."
"No! You're a friend, and friends don't stay in hotels. We have plenty of
room. Besides, Dave and Greg would kill me if I let you go to a hotel."
"I don't really think that that would be a problem," Bruce answers. There
is a sadness there that Jeff quickly picks up.
"Hey, man. What is the matter?"
"Jeff, thanks, but I can't tell you," Bruce responds rather surprisingly.
"Look. Nothing you tell me will ever go any farther, and I won't judge
you. There are things about me that I'm not proud of too. So, if you'd like
to talk about it, I'm here. No strings, or judgment, attached."
Bruce looks into Jeff's eyes for a second. In them, he sees Jeff's
sincerity. He sees that Jeff is not bullshitting when he tells him that he
won't judge.
"I slept with Greg, and Dave knows!" he blurts. Getting no response from
Jeff, no admonition, he continues. He tells Jeff all the sordid details of
their time together. Jeff nods at the admission, and ask only questions
that prompt him to continue. "And before I knew what was happening, I was
on the plane coming here. I really feel as if I'm intruding, but I don't
know how to get out of this without angering Dave, and hurting Greg. I've
hurt them so much already."
"The answer is simple. Just put it behind you. Dave has, or he shortly
will. Was that what the tension was about earlier?"
"Yeah! Your other brother Rich.his comment hit a little to close to
home. That's what pissed Dave off. I'm sure of it."
"Greg has a way of calming Dave down, and they love each other so much that
I'm sure that they will work through it."
"Yeah! I see how they feel about each other. I had always hoped that Greg
and I."
"You like him, don't you?"
"Yeah, I guess I do. But you know something?" He looks up into Jeff's
eyes. "I think that I was more smitten with him.sort of in lust.than
actually in love with him. To be honest, he feels more like a brother than
he could ever a lover. I just wished we had not done what we did. I guess
we both let the alcohol and the moment lead us. I wished we would have
waited. I would have like my first time to have been with someone who
wasn't my brother."
A servant appears from out of nowhere. "Mr. Jeff, there is a telephone."
Jeff quickly picks up the phone.
"Hello. This is Jefferson Welsh.Mr. Lane, my brother, Dave, told me of
you. Do you have any news? Oh, wonderful! Are they alright? Yes. I'll let
everyone know. Give them our love, and tell them we are anxious to have
them home. Thanks again. Bye!
My parents.they're okay!" Jeff says, looking to the crowded room of
servants and Bruce. They are at an area hospital, but they seem to be doing
well. No one was seriously hurt in the crash. The pilot did sustain a
broken leg, but he's going to be okay. They should be home sometime
tonight."
"Than' you, Lawd," says Sadie.
"That's great news!" Bruce says, as Jeff grabs him for a hug. Their bodies
press together, and neither seems to want to separate. They only do so when
they both, embarrassed, begin to feel the familiar tingle in their
crotches. "Come on," he says, breaking their hold, "let's go tell the
others."
Jeff knocks on Rich's door. Betsy answers, and invites us inside. Rich is
putting on his shoes. The bed is unkempt, letting us know that they were
either napping, or napping.
He tells them, and you can see the relief that sweeps over their
face. "They should be home sometime tonight."
"Thank God!" Rich and Betsy say. "He is good," Betsy continues, pointing
towards the heavens.
"Yes he is," Rich answers, giving her a hug.
"Now, maybe you can get some rest. He tossed and turned all the while we
were in here," she laughs.
"Okay then, you two get some rest so that you'll be awake when they
arrive."
"You get some too," Rich says. "You have been bearing this ordeal longer
than we have."
"I will." Rich steps up, they embrace. Jeff looks shocked, but quickly
recovers.
"Have you told Dave and Greg yet?"
"No, we're on our way there now."
"I hope everything is okay with those two. There seemed to be some tension
earlier." I drop my head, but say nothing.
"They'll be okay. I guess Dave was just feeling the pressure. You know how
he is. I'm sure this news will alter things." Jeff leads me down the hall
to the room Greg and Dave occupy.
"Maybe I should go back downstairs," I say.
"No, please stay. The three of you have to work this out." He knocks on the
door, and not waiting for a response, we walk in. We are greeted with an
impressive site, a very nude Greg laying in the arms of Dave. Damn! Dave is
so lucky, I think, as I give Greg a good looking over. For that matter, so
is Greg, as I catch sight of Dave in all his glory. The air in the room is
all masculine. It's a definite give-away as to what has occurred.
"Ahem!" Jeff clears his throat. "If you two aren't going to lock your
doors, at least have the decency to cover up."
"Jeff, what the fuck! You pervert! Did you two enjoy the show?" Greg says,
pulling the covers over he and Dave.
"Jefferson Randall Welsh, just because you're over twenty-five doesn't mean
that I won't kick your ass."
"I did knock Davey, but if you want us to leave and not tell you the news,
we will," Jeff teases.
"What news?" Greg asks, as he and Dave sit up in the bed.
"Your friend, Bryan, called," Jeff announces. "He said that they found Mom
and Dad. They are okay, although the pilot suffered a broken leg in the
crash. Other than bruises, they are fine, and after they are checked out,
they will be coming home. They should be here some time tonight."
"Thank God," Greg says as he hugs Dave, apparent relief on their faces. It
is the first smile I've seen since we arrived.
"Okay, now get out so that we can get dressed," Dave says, a smile on his
face. "We'll see you downstairs."
"Dave? Greg? Before we leave, may I say something?" I ask, my voice
catching in my throat. They look at me curiously. "I need to apologize."
"Bruce, you don't have to."
"Yes, I do, Greg. I owe you, and especially you, Dave, an apology. I had a
long talk with Jeff, and he made me realize a few things." They both look
at Jeff, then back to me as I continue. "I thought that I had feelings for
you Greg. And I guess, somewhere subconsciously, I realized that you and
Dave were a couple, but I didn't care. All I saw was this one opportunity
to make you love me.
But, in hindsight, I realize that what we did was wrong, because it hurt
Dave, and because I realize that I think of you more as a brother than a
lover.
I hope that we can put this behind us, and be friends. I do wish you two
well, and I want you to know that you will always have my support."
"Bruce," Dave says getting out of bed, and grabbing a robe. Man, that is
one delicious looking piece he has swinging between his legs. "I want to
put this behind us. I'd like to be your friend. Let me start by welcoming
you to my childhood home." He extends his hand, which I grasp eagerly.
"Thanks, Dave. That's very magnanimous of you. Now, if you'll excuse me,
I'll take my leave and let you two get on with what you were." There is no
graceful exit, as I'm sure the two of them read my mind as they both blush.
"How cute!" That's Jeff, noticing their blush. "Blushing at their age."
"Get out, Jefferson," Dave says, pushing us towards the door. "We'll see
you downstairs."
Mom and Dad arrived home, a little bruised, but no worse for the wear, to
all of our relief. There presence seemed to put everyone in a much more
jovial mood, and relieve some of the stress and tension that had
developed. Even Bruce and I found common ground.
I also learned that he and Jeff had found common ground, and were quite
enamored with one another.
It wasn't long before things were back to normal.
"I would love to have everyone here in New York for the Fourth," Greg said
one evening after we had put the children to bed. That will give everyone
the chance to see the renovations to the apartment, and since we have to be
in the Caribbean during the Christmas holidays for the opening of Paradise
Island, that would be the perfect opportunity.
"I'd like that a lot. Let's call everyone and see what they think." We got
on the phone, and soon we had commitments from all of our close family to
visit for the holiday. Very happily, we drifted off to sleep."
The next day was glorious, and seeing that it was Saturday, I convinced
Greg to bundle the children, and take a ride with me in the country.
"Where are we going?" he asks as we travel south along the New Jersey
Turnpike.
"To someplace I think you'd like. We only have about another hour to go," I
say, as we begin to cross the Delaware Memorial Bridge.
"What are you up too?" he asks, his suspicion rising.
"Now, why do I have to be up to something Greg? Could I possibly be trying
to put something over on you?"
"Yes!" he smiles. "And I love you for it!"
"I love you, too. Now, sit back and enjoy the ride." I leave Interstate 95,
and merge onto Route 20, heading toward Annapolis. Soon, I am pulling into
the quaint town of Glen Burnie, Maryland."
"This place is so beautiful," Greg says.
"Yes, it is," I remark.
I don't stop, but head out of town. I drive about five miles, when the area
starts to change. "Looks like they're putting in new roads out here," Greg
remarks. Indeed the crews are busy building overpasses and roadways leading
out to the shore.
I turn onto a road, and you can see that the docks are being fitted and
fine-tuned. "What is this place?" Greg asks.
"This is going to be the port of Carnival, Royal Caribbean, Norwegian, and
Paradise Cruise Lines. We have been in the harbor area for the last five
miles. I continue traveling along the road for about two more miles,
turning yet again towards a wooded area. After about three miles inland,
the trees part.
Standing before us is the almost completed house that is our
destination. The road ends in a circular pattern as it comes to the front
door. There is a parking lot to the left of the building that is currently
being paved. Nearby is what appears to be a very large building, with
obvious bays, that appear to be a garage.
"What is this place?" Greg asks, as I park the van. The children have
started to stir from the little nap they had taken, and are soon demanding
to be released from their car seats.
"I think we need to change the children before we get out," I say, totally
ignoring his question. We each take one of the children, and laying them on
the air mattress we put on the floor in the back, change their diapers. We
bundle them up, and exit the van.
I take Robyn, and Greg grabs Micah, and I lead them to the front door. I
push open the door. There is a large foyer, with soft peach and forest
green marble tiles. The smell of construction is still in the air. The
walls have been painted a soft cream that compliments the tiles. A large
crystal chandelier hangs in the center.
To the right is a huge room, with a slate fireplace that encompasses one
wall. The exterior wall is totally made of tempered glass, giving us a
dynamic view of the water, and the expansive garden currently being
installed.
I lead him to a room that is definitely a bar, with a dark mahogany counter
that gleams with a high polish, and compliments the chestnut-stained oak
floors that we've been walking. Through the glass of three sets of patio
doors can be seen a comfortable space that would one day be for smoking
cigars and lounging. There was a fountain there that gently gave the room a
calming effect.
We then moved on through a pantry with a built in wine cellar, and into the
kitchen, gleaming in stainless steel and black tiles. A white tile floor
had been installed, and it ran through the breakfast nook that overlooked
the expansive deck to the rear. It was accessible to the house via the
smoking and living rooms we had just seen, and it was bi-leveled to the
sloped back yard and terrace that already had a built-in barbeque pit and
in-ground pool, as well as a kiddie park.
I continued to lead them on to show them the formal dining room through the
butler's pantry, the huge media room, the library, and the office on this
level. In the media room, a door led out to a breezeway and into the garage
with six bays. That was the building that we saw as we drove up. I tell
Greg that there are four bedrooms, complete with a full bath in each, above
the garage. Those are the servant's quarters. There was also a large room
that Greg discovered was a bathroom off of the room.
I lead him downstairs, where there are four rooms and a bath. There was a
theatre, a formal gym, a playroom, and another bedroom. They were of
varying colors to match the rooms they served. The floors were carpeted in
a soft beige color, and would feel marvelous underfoot.
As we headed up the stairs towards the second story, Greg said, "We
shouldn't be doing this. We don't know who owns this place." We are
standing on a landing with five steps leading to the left and the right. We
head right.
"Oh, I thought I forgot something," I said as we opened the door to the
master suite. I reach in my pocket, and pull out a box. I hand it to Greg.
"What's this?" he asks.
"Open it. Inside were two keys. One was obviously a car key."
He looks at me questioningly. "I know this is early, but Merry Christmas,
sweetheart."
Still not understanding, I continue. "This is going to be our new home. I
hope you like it, since it's yours."
"What?"
"See, you should read the history of PCL. Father is moving the company to
the Baltimore area, hence, the piers being built. We're going to be sailing
out of the harbor that we passed."
Still not comprehending, I go on. "We had talked about moving our family
out of the city, and I fell in love with the area when we visited your
parents. So, I managed to acquire this property when PCL purchased their
land, and I built this house as a Christmas present for you."
"You mean."
"Yep! Welcome home! Do you like it?"
Greg looks over to see that the children are okay before he takes me in his
arms. "I love it! It is a magnificent home, but how did you get it finished
so soon?"
"Double shifts. I knew I was on a timetable," I say, breaking the
kiss. "But there is still a little work to be done.
Greg looks around the suite. We were standing in the sitting area, and he
moves on into the sleeping area. I can hear his breath catch as he once
again sees the view through the wall of windows that face the bay. The only
break is the doors to the balcony.
"The morning light is going to kill us," he remarks.
"No," I say, flipping a switch. The windows suddenly tint over. "We can see
out, but light can't filter in.
"This bathroom is huge!" he exclaims. It is done in Greg's favorite colors,
pumpkin and milk chocolate brown. There is even a mini-gym off to one side
of the room, and an oversized shower with eight jets.
Across from our suite is the nursery and two other suites comprise this
side of the building.
We cross the landing to find four other bedrooms on the other side, each
with their own bath.
"Well?" I say. "Do you like it?"
He stands there, his back to me. "No," he says. "I LOVE IT!" he shouts,
startling the children. "It's so huge!" He grabs me around the neck,
toppling me to the floor, covering me with kisses and words of thanks. The
children, seeing us down at their level, immediately toddle over, and soon
we are all laughing and giggling as we play on the floor of the empty room.
"Oh, Mr. Welsh? I didn't know whose van that was parked outside.
"Connor," I say, as we all stop our play. Of course, that is only a brief
respite for the children as they once again climb on their favorite
toys. "Connor, I'd like you to meet my family: Greg Jefferson, and our
children, Micah and Robyn. Greg, this is Connor Farrior. Connor is the
general contractor for the property." He and Greg shake hands.
"We just finished paving the landing strip, and we should have the
inspectors here on Monday. They should issue a CO by Wednesday, and you can
move in when you wish."
"Connor, there's a hefty bonus for all of you. You don't know what this
means to me."
"Oh, this lady came by the other day. She gave me this card. Said to tell
you to call her anytime." I take the card from him. It read, Angela Perrin,
Perrin Interior Designs.
"Thanks Connor."
"Did you give Mr. Jefferson."
"Call me Greg, Connor."
".Greg, the tour?"
"Yes he did. Hence, here we are on the floor," Greg laughs.
"Well, this is some Christmas present. My wife was out here, and she loved
this place."
"Well, we'll have to have you over as soon as we're settled."
"Thanks, we'd like that."
"Hey, why don't we call this Ms. Perrin, and see if she can meet us
soon. If we can swing it, we can have the family here for the Fourth," Greg
says.
"That's why we're here today," I say, giving him a kiss. I can see Connor's
wheels turn, but I also see a look of acceptance cross his face.
As it would be, Ms. Perrin was free that afternoon (I'm sure she became
free when she learned who we were) and told us that she could be out in one
half hour. I asked Connor to stay around to see if there might be some
carpentry that needed to be done. Who better to lead the project that the
contractor himself.
Ms. Perrin was prompt, and we liked her immediately, and some of the ideas
she had. She had actually made some sketches on the hope that we would
call. We asked her for her advice, and Greg was forceful with his
input. "What we want is a home, not a museum," he stated to her. I let him
take the lead, adding my input when asked. Ms. Perrin was shocked to learn
that she would have a budget of $5 million to decorate. We figured that
should be enough to secure the timetable that we wished.
She agreed with Greg that the living room should be done in conversation
areas. We wanted a table that could accommodate up to 24 in the huge dining
room that she said would have to be custom made. She would travel to
Highpoint, North Carolina, to select the furniture choices that she and
Greg agreed upon, and she was eager with the fabric choices and colors that
Greg envisioned.
She wanted to know if we could meet her at her office on Monday where she
could put all of this into the computer for us to take a virtual tour of
the house. We agreed.
"Are we far from Mom and Dad's," Greg asks.
"No, do you want to go there?"
"Yeah, I'd love to tell them about my gift, and we can make phone calls to
the family inviting them here."
"Connor? Is the helipad ready?"
"The helipad? We have a helipad? And did you say something about a landing
strip?"
"Yes, sirs," he answers, to both our questions.
"Good. Now, is there a heliport near here?"
"Yes, sir. Near the naval base."
"Oh, yeah. I remember now." After saying our goodbyes, we climb back into
the van, and head to the local airstrip, where we charter a helicopter for
the trip to Dean and Penelope's. I can tell Greg is nervous as he climbs
aboard the copter. The children take it is stride, and in twenty minutes,
we are landing on the beach near Greg's parents house. They are certainly
surprised, but delighted, as we climb out. I remind the pilot that we need
him back at this location at 8:30 a.m. Monday so that we can make our
meeting with Ms. Perrin.
Dean and Penelope were very surprised when the helicopter touched down not
far from their home. They were a little alarmed until they saw it was us,
with their grandchildren, and then Greg and I became secondary.
"That must have cost a small fortune," Dean said, when he learned of the
house.
"Well, we needed a place that would hold the entire family," I piped in.
"And that's where we are enjoying the Fourth," Greg added. "It will be sort
of a house warming."
"Are you sure you'll be ready?" Penelope asked.
"Well, we have this designer who actually approached us. We met with her
before we flew here, and Dave let she and I design the house. It should be
beautiful, mother."
"I can't wait to see it," she says.
"Neither can I." That was Dean.
The rest of the weekend was spent with us taking a back seat to the
children, who were obviously the delight of their grandparents. They
enjoyed spoiling them so. We did manage to contact everyone again inviting
them to the new house for Independence Day, and giving them the
coordinates, so that they could fly in to the property, if they desired.
Monday came all too quickly. Penelope insisted on preparing breakfast for
us herself that morning.
"Why don't you leave the children here for a while, at least until you
finalize things with the designer, and can move in?" she said as we sat to
eat. "That way, Dave, you can close down the New York apartment, and Greg
could devote his time to decorating."
"I hadn't thought of us being apart," Greg says.
"Neither had I," I answer him.
"Oh, come on you two," Dean says, "it's only for a couple of nights. Greg
you have to go with the designer, and Dave you have work in New York. You
both have cells if you need a fix. That's more than Penny and I had when we
first were apart."
The next couple of months were a flurry of activity as carpenters,
craftsmen, upholsterers, and work crews brought our home together, all
under the critical eyes of Greg and Ms. Perrin. And during the first week
of June, four weeks before the holiday, the movers arrived with our
personal items. The New York apartment would be kept for when we were in
the city.
In addition to closing the New York apartment, I was given the task of
hiring the staff. I was to look for a full-time nanny, as well as a
housekeeper, both of whom would be live-ins. Of course, I was seeking
someone who reminded me of Sadie, and I was lucky to find Mrs. Harrington.
I also found a full-time chef. I had the recommendation of Phillip Bentley,
who hired the chefs for the cruise line. He recommended a young talent by
the name of Tony Williams, and after sampling his style, it was easy to
bring him aboard.
At Phillip's suggestion, I contacted Robert Parker, Jr., one of the world's
foremost authorities on wines, who lived not far from us in Monkton,
Maryland, and had him select the wines for our wine cellar.
It was a very fast week. Time seem to move at lightning speed as we
approached the holiday. Everyone had said they would come; most were
anxious to see the new house.
Dusk was almost upon us when we spotted headlights coming down the
drive. "That's Mom and Dad, I bet," Greg says as open the front door.
True to his belief, Dean and Penelope bounded from the car, Penelope almost
before the car had come to a complete stop.
"Oh-my-God!" she exclaimed, grabbing first Greg and then me. "This place is
spectacular!" The house did look grand. Connor and his crew had completed
the final touches the weekend before. The lawns were perfectly manicured,
fragrant flowers and shrubs framed the building, walkways, and the garden,
and the trees that we left in place around the house had an underlay of
thick, green sod. The electrician had discretely placed floodlights to
accent the house and the landscaping features of the property.
"Isn't it beautiful, Mother?" Greg asks, beaming with joy and pride. "I
still have to pinch myself just to make sure I'm not dreaming."
"Well, if this is a dream, son, don't wake up," Dean says.
"Come on in. Let us show you the place," I say, as we usher them into the
house.
"Where are my grandchildren?" Penelope asks. "You didn't lose them in this
place, did you?"
"No," I chuckle. "They are upstairs with the nanny, I think."
"We'll get there, Mom. May I offer you a drink?" At that moment,
Mrs. Harrington, the housekeeper appears.
"Mom, Dad? I'd like to introduce you to Mrs. Harrington, our housekeeper
and resident mother. She doesn't let us get away with anything. You'd think
she was paying us.Mrs. Harrington, these are my parents, Dean and Penelope
Jefferson."
"I'm very pleased to meet the both of you. And this one here," she swats at
Greg, "has a smart mouth."
"Oh, I like you," Dean says.
"Me too. I'm pleased to meet you too, Mrs. Harrington. It's good to know
that there is someone who can keep these two in line." Everyone chuckles at
Greg and my expense.
"I know you'll enjoy your stay here, and if there's anything you wish, just
let me know. Now, I'll get someone to bring in your bags. Mr. Greg? You
want them in the South Wing?"
"That's right, the first suite on the bay side, please, Mrs. Harrington."
"And we thought we'd put my parents in the one next door, and my oldest
brother, Rich, in the suite across from the Jeffersons."
"What about Jeff, and Mom, is Joey going to be able to make it?" Penelope
nods her head in assent.
"And don't call him Joey," she says. "You know how much he hates that."
"Well, I thought that we'd put them on our side of the house. Joe-y can
have the suite next to the nursery, and Jeff can stay next to us."
"Oh wonderful, a full house. Now, you boys show your parents around."
Penelope is in awe as she takes in the view from the living room, and Dean
found a home in the bar. "This looks like a real pub," he says, as Greg
pours us a cocktail. "And what a great pool table. I'll have to get you
guys on that later. Spank your asses!" he chuckles.
"That's the whole idea, the bar look," Greg adds. "And out there," he
indicates, pointing his finger, "is a climate controlled, air purified
smoking solarium, where we hearty men can enjoy a good cigar every now and
then." He hooks his thumbs in some fantasy suspenders he has on.
"I could get use to a kitchen like this," Penelope says as we greet Tony
Williams and the temporary staff that he's hired to help out this
weekend. Wonderful, inviting smells permeate the air.
We move on to the other rooms, and once again, Penelope stops to admire the
oversized, special-made dining table that can comfortably seat
twenty-four. The wood has been polished to a high gloss, and
Mrs. Harrington has it decorated with two wonderful arrangements of
seasonal flowers sitting between three candelabras.
We then climb the grand staircase, turning right and ascending to the South
Wing. Starting from the rear, we enter each suite, with it's own sitting
area and private bath. Greg had done a wonderful job choosing the fabrics
and colors to make each room soft and inviting.
"These rooms are bigger than our living room, dining room, and kitchen
combined," Dean says as we show them their suite.
"Well, we wanted everyone to be comfortable."
"If you can't be comfortable here, you will never be comfortable," Penelope
adds.
We showed them the other side, and they again admired the rooms. They
noticed the balcony along the back wall and the wall of glass that was the
rear of our bedroom.
"This leaves little privacy," Dean says.
"Just watch," Greg says, as the glass suddenly goes dark, putting the room
in total darkness.
"Well, what will they think of next?" Dean says.
We then lead them downstairs. "Does this place never end?" Penelope
exclaims, causing us to chuckle. Descending the stairs, we take Dean and
Penelope into our home gym, fully loaded with the latest exercise
equipment.
There is a showcase there, and we show them the model of the island project
that we are doing, as well as the model of the new cruise ship that we are
building, the U.S.S. Family, a ship dedicated to families and their
needs. Dean and Penelope were impressed, and said that they couldn't wait
to sail it. They wondered if we had any pull with the owners. We told them
that we'd try.
"OK, you two," Penelope began. "You have kept me from them long
enough. Where-are-my-grandchildren?" she demanded. "They weren't in the
nursery."
"I'd take us there now, if I were you, guys. She looks like she need a baby
fix-bad!" Dean laughs.
"Right this way, Mother," Greg says, as he opens the door across the hall.
"My babies!" Penelope exclaims. The kids jump up when they recognize the
voice of Penelope, and run to her. By this time, she has dropped to the
floor and is eagerly awaiting them with arms wide open.
"This is the children's playroom," we explain to Dean. "And this is
Stephanie, their nanny."
A young, attractive 20-something stands, and comes towards us. "Stephanie
Lawson, I'd like you to meet Dean Jefferson, and the one on the floor there
playing like a little kid, is Penelope, my strange parents," Greg says.
"Very pleased to meet the both of you," Stephanie says with a laugh.
"You're a mighty young thing," Penelope remarks.
"Yes, ma'am,"
"Yes, she is Penelope. But, she has experience, and a master in early
childhood development," I say.
"What do you do for a colicky baby?" Penelope asks.
"Steam," Stephanie answers. "I would turn the shower on, letting the steam
build, and then stand with the child in the room until the baby's breathing
became easier."
Satisfied with that answer, Penelope goes back to play with the children.
"I guess I passed," she whispers to us.
"Dinner is served," Mrs. Harrington says, coming into the room.
"Oh, just wanted you to see this room, then we'll go up. Through here,"
Greg says, indicating a set of double doors, is our home theatre. It seats
thirty."
"Well, this is a wonderful place, son," Dean says. "I'm really proud of the
both of you."
"Good, then you and Mom will visit more often," I say. Dean smiles.
"I don't think you can keep her away now," he says, pointing to his wife
still on the floor.
We have a wonderful dinner, and after the children are down for the night,
we enjoy conversation in the bar.
"The rest of the family will be arriving tomorrow," I say. "My parents are
so looking forward to meeting you. To quote my father, we have to meet the
fine people who raised someone that finally tamed you."
"I wonder what he meant by that?" Greg says.
We're only up a little while longer before we head off to bed ourselves.
Greg and I had just finished feeding Micah and Robin when Penelope and Dean
came into the breakfast nook.
"Good morning, my precious ones," Penelope says.
"Hey Greg," I ask, "have you noticed how we seem to blend into the
background whenever these two," I indicate the children, "are around?"
"Yeah Dave, I do. How does it feel to be invisible?"
"Alright you two, stop picking on your mother. She can't help it if she's
got baby-on-the-brain," Dean teases.
They pour themselves a cup of coffee as Stephanie comes to get the children
to take them for their bath. "Tell Grandma and Grandpa you'll see them
after your bath," Stephanie says for them, and she hauls them up the back
staircase to their room.
"So, what time will everyone start arriving?" Dean asks. Before I can
answer, the patio door opens.
"Oh man, that runway is sweet. It is so nice and smooth." In walks Captain
Paul, followed by my parents.
Both Greg and I go over giving them big hugs and kisses as they come into
the room. "I didn't even know you had arrived. Paul, why didn't you phone
ahead?"
"I did, and got landing clearance from someone here."
"Mom? Dad? I'd like for you to meet Greg's parents, Penelope and Dean
Jefferson. Penelope and Dean, my Mom and Dad, Robert and Mavis Welsh. And
this quirky nut is their pilot and my long-time friend, Paul Cannon."
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you," Dad says. "Call me Bob."
"And I'm D, and this is Penny."
"I'm the only one without a nickname," Mom Mavis says, and that brings
laughter all around. Soon we all are chatting away. "Where are my grands,"
Mavis says.
"Let me show you," Penny says, and she and mom head off in search of
babies, giggling like schoolgirls. I had never heard my mother giggle-like
that.
"Don't you want to see the house?" Greg calls. "Have some breakfast?"
"Later baby," my mother says. "I need to find the babies first."
"Can't you see we need.how did Dean put it.a baby-fix?" Penny answers. They
both giggle again.
"Dean, do you like a good cigar?"
"Bob, you're talking my language. And I know just the place to smoke them,"
he says as they grab their coffee and head off towards the bar. "Come on,
Paul."
Greg and I stand there dumbfounded, looking at each other. "Alone again I
see," I say stepping up to Greg and enveloping him in my arms. We kiss
briefly and head out to find the men.
Just as we're sitting down, there is a bellow from the foyer. "Does anyone
live in this hotel?"
"Rich? Betsy?" We run to the foyer where my brother, his wife, and kids
are. I grab the children in a hug as Greg greets Rich and Betsy. Soon, the
whole clan is there as we all begin to exchange hugs and introductions. Mom
is in heaven as she introduces Rich and his family to the Jeffersons. And
Penny and she, along with Betsy, immediately begin with the children. Soon,
Stephanie appears and offers to take the little ones to the playroom so
that all the cousins can play. The big kids follow along.
We tried to sit once again when the patio door opens again, and in walks
Scott, followed by Jeff, and Bruce.
"Man, that is a sweet runway," Scott says.
"It sure is," Paul says, walking over to shake Scott's hand.
"Hello, everyone," Jeff says as he enters the room.
"Dean, this is my other son, Jefferson," Dad says.
"Jeff," he quickly says, looking to Bob. "And this is my friend, Bruce. I
invited him along, since he didn't have plans for the holidays."
"Oh, I know Bruce. He and Greg grew up together. Hi Bruce. How are your
folks?"
"Mr. Jefferson, it's good to see you again. They are in Europe, so I guess
they're fine. Hello, Dave."
"Hello, Bruce, welcome to our home. We're glad you could come."
We all visited a little more before the ladies return, and we give them a
tour of the house, pointing out their various suites as we went. Jeff and
Bruce were last, seeing as they would be in the room next to ours.
"Dave," Bruce begins, "I don't want to interfere with your holiday
plans. If it would make you more comfortable, I can find a hotel
somewhere."
"Why would you do something like that?" Jeff asks, coming up to us.
"Like what?" Greg asks.
"I know Greg and Dave were planning on just having family here this
holiday, so I volunteered to stay at a motel."
"Look, Dave, you might as well know. Bruce and I are together. We're an
item," Jeff announces. "If he leaves, I'm afraid I'll have to go also." I
look at Greg, but he lowers his head.
"Jeff, I never asked Bruce to leave. He's welcomed here, just as you
are. I'm glad that you two have found each other, so make yourselves at
home." With that said, I walked away and into our bedroom, closing the
door.
"Dave? Dave?" Greg said, coming into the room. I was standing on the
balcony, looking out at the sound. I could feel him approach.
"Dave?"
"Not now, Greg.please!" I asked, more than demanded. "I.I just can't get
into this right now."
"I didn't know Bruce was coming, just so you know."
"He's here, under our roof," I exclaim.
"But he's here with Jeff, not for me."
"Are you sure about that?" I ask him, turning to face him finally.
"Where is that coming from?"
"I don't know, Greg. You tell me. You slept with him." I head back into the
bedroom. Greg follows.
"Yes.I did. And I felt so guilty I told you about it. It was a mistake I
readily admitted. I thought that we had gotten past this."
"I thought we had too, until I see him under our roof, and down the hall
from our bedroom. Tell me, is that so you two can run back and forth? Do
you feel guilty about telling me, or doing what you two did?"
"Listen to yourself. You said that you were going to put Jeff there, not
me. It's not my fault that he and Jeff are together. Bruce and I don't have
a relationship. And to answer your other question, I feel guilty about what
happened. Can't you see that you're the one that I want? Can't you see that
you're the one that I want, that I need? Can't you see that you are my
future?"
"I don't know Greg.I don't know where we stand anymore. Until that night, I
thought that nothing could come between us. I thought that we were in this
together."
"Dave? I'm afraid. I think we need to get help.professional help. We need
help to get past this. What do you think?"
"What? Tell somebody all of our little secrets?"
"No-we need someone to help us deal with what's going on. There are some
dark issues we need to work on: the infidelity, yes. But there's also some
other issues that have come between us."
"Like what?"
"This control need that we both have. I noticed it with the way I became
during renovation. I noticed it when you subdued Reynolds that day, and the
way you treated Shelia. We need to work these things out, don't you think?"
"Greg."
"If you're honest with yourself, and me, you'll see that I'm right. Baby,
we need help. Please!" His voice softens as he comes towards me.
I reluctantly nod my assent.